


Sharing Interests

by PixeledPurple



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Cuddling, Drug Use, Enforcer Prowl, I dreamt this whole thing so then I had to write it, M/M, Made Up Science, New but established relationship, Peer Pressure, Recreational Drug Use, SCIENCE!, au: no war, but he’s starscream so i have to, done with good intentions though, i didn’t want to tag him because his roll is so small, musician jazz, prowl gets high, prowl is really funny high, starscream has one line, vague references to interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:49:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25638328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PixeledPurple/pseuds/PixeledPurple
Summary: It's Jazz's turn to choose what they do for date night, and he manages to convince Prowl to go with him to a recently legalized neon dispensary.Or Prowl gets high and Jazz is amused.
Relationships: Jazz/Prowl
Comments: 23
Kudos: 52





	Sharing Interests

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, there is peer pressure and manipulation. But how else is Jazz supposed to get Prowl high? Everything here is done with the best intentions and I promise there are no hard feelings by anyone about anything afterwards, and ultimately, everything is totally consensual. There is also some suggestive conversation. But if you do have concerns please don’t read. <3

"It’s completely legal Prowler. I made sure they’re 100% above board."

"That’s irrelevant Jazz. I am an enforcer. I can’t go around…"

"Doin’ things that are legal?" Jazz smirked. "But ya do have a point. You’re gonna wanna cover up those decals," he said, looking at Prowl’s doorwings.

Prowl gave him a dark look at that. "If this place and everything they are doing is legal, why do you want me to hide the fact that I’m an enforcer?"

Jazz cycled his optics, "Cuz the laws allowing recreational neon are new. And enforcers still make bots… somewhat tense."

Prowl glared at him.

"C’mon Prowler! You said you wanted to get to know me better, do things I do."

"I meant visiting a bar. Perhaps watching you perform…"

Jazz almost gave in then. That was hard for the other to say. But Prowl had seen him perform before, and after three dates arranged entirely by Prowl, Jazz wanted his turn. Pit, it had even been the Praxian’s suggestion! Though if he had known what Jazz was going to propose, he probably wouldn’t have made it.

"All right mech, if you’d rather, it’s open mic night at MacAdams."

Prowl visibly relaxed at that, his doorwings lowering slightly in relief.

"But if ya want this to be a real date, you’re gonna have to get up there with me."

And just like that, all the tension was back, Prowl’s doorwings shooting up to the point where it must have been painful. Jazz grinned.

"You want me to _what_?!?!" he demanded incredulously.

"Sing with me. Or you can play something if you’d rather. I could show you some notes on the electrobass."

"No, absolutely not. I… don’t sing. We…" it was obviously hard for Prowl to say, so Jazz waited. "Could go to that club you mentioned."

'That club' was the hottest dance club on Cybertron. And oh how Jazz would _love_ to see Prowl shakin' it on the dance floor… "It’s Wednesday night Prowler. Clubs ain’t open till Friday."

"Oh."

Jazz let out an overly dramatic sigh. Prowl wasn’t known for picking up on the subtle things. "That’s alright Prowler. I don’t want ya to do anything you ain’t comfortable with. We can just go get a cube from that place we went to last week. It was good energon. Maybe we can watch a vid at your place or something after…" he pushed the disappointment into his field, laying it on thick. Some would say he was being manipulative. They’d be right.

Prowl’s doorwings twitched. It clearly sounded like the best possible way to spend the night to him, but contrary to what others may say about him, he was not unfeeling. And he could read other mechs. Maybe not as well as some, but it was clear that it wasn’t what Jazz wanted.

Prowl lowered his doorwings. "We could still go to MacAdams. I would love to watch you play."

"Yea, alright. Whatever you want Prowl."

Prowl frowned at that. As much as he disliked the nickname the other insisted on using, the fact that he wasn’t using it now spoke to how disappointed the other must be. "No, Jazz. I said that you should pick what we do tonight. I just…"

"I don’t wanna make you do anything you don’t wanna Prowler. It’s certainly not for everyone, but, it’s not gonna hurt to try something new."

"Neon has been an illegal additive since long before I became an enforcer. It’s not something I ever considered trying."

"It’s not illegal anymore. And I promise, it won’t hurt ya."

Prowl looked at him for a minute. He had done all the research when the laws had first been repealed. It was true, neon had a very low risk of any adverse affects, at least when taken in measured doses. It was no more dangerous than enerjex. Not that Prowl was particularly fond of enerjex either. Still, he had at least tried it.

"There ain’t no rules against it on the force, are there?"

Prowl shook his head, his doorwings instinctively signing a negative, "As long as any substances are out of our system before a duty shift, there’s no rules against it."

"Perfect then! It should be clear of your systems by morning, and you’ve got tomorrow off. Come on Prowler, just come with me. If ya don’t wanna try it you don’t have to. They have lighter stuff too if y’d rather."

Prowl still hesitated, but with a sigh, he nodded. He couldn’t resist Jazz. The mech was so different from himself, so different from anyone he had ever pictured ending up with, and yet, something drew him to Jazz. And somehow, that feeling was mutual.

"I promise Prowler, you won’t regret it!" Jazz exclaimed, grabbing his hand and pulling him along the street.

***

Prowl stared at the building Jazz had led them to. To say it was small was an understatement. The neighborhood left more than a little to be desired as well, though it wasn’t known as a high crime area. A bright red sign spelled out "Neon Dispensary" above the door. The window was painted over in black with advertisements for the business as bright splashes of color.

"Prowler? Ya gonna come in?" Jazz asked gently, his tone held a touch of humor and no sign of irritation at the fact that they had been standing here for 8.7 minutes already.

"I’m not promising to take anything," he said stiffly

"No problem. Just, come in with me." Prowl let Jazz take his hand and lead him inside. He folded his doorwings back apprehensively, his enforcer decals masked per Jazz’s recommendation.

"Jazz!" The greeting was immediate and Prowl tensed instinctively, not liking to be the center of attention, or next to the center of attention. He supposed he was going to have to get used to that if he was really going to be dating Jazz…

"Hey Wheeljack! How’s it hangin?!" The two clasped hands, Jazz never releasing Prowl’s. There was barely enough room for the three of them. The walls were painted black with posters and various glowing signs hung from nearly every square foot.

Wheeljack stood behind a small desk and there where two doors behind him, also painted black.

"This must be your new friend."

"Yup!" Jazz pulled him forward, completely ignoring the glare Prowl gave him for it. "This is Prowl. Tonight’s our fourth date."

"Oh is it? Well you need to tell me about your third some time," Wheeljack said, helm fins flashing orange.

Jazz chuckled and Prowl got the distinct feeling that he had missed something.

"So Prowl, is this your first time at a neon bar?"

"Yes," he didn’t particularly feel the need to make conversation.

"Don’w worry, we’re strictly on the level here. Jazz told me you were concerned about doing anything illegal."

As an enforcer, that raised all kinds of red flags for Prowl. "And how long have you operated this establishment?" he asked carefully choosing his words.

Wheeljack chuckled, "This one? Opened it the night the laws passed making it legal. Come on, I’ll get you two set up."

Prowl opened his mouth to speak, the other wasn’t even trying to deny- 

"Come on Prowler," Jazz said, pulling him along behind Wheeljack.

"But- He-"

"It’s your night off Prowler," Jazz grinned at him, leading him through the door Wheeljeck was holding open.

Inside was significantly bigger than the front room, though still small. It was dimly lit and the walls were painted a dark burgundy. There where several other patrons sitting at assorted tables around the room. A few of them were gathered near the corner, watching a lone seeker. Prowl looked over to see what was so intriguing. The mech was working on a Pentaminx puzzle and appeared to be solving it in near record time.

"That’s Starscream," Wheeljack told them. "He likes to show off."

"I didn’t ask for an audience, Wheeljack. Can I help it if they’re amazed by me?"

Wheeljack cycled his optics, not bothering to respond as he led them to the other side of the room.

"Is he… I mean, was he…" Prowl stumbled over his words, not sure what the polite way of asking if someone had ingested a mind altering substance was.

"Yeah, he’s two cubes in. Takes the good stuff too."

"How does he do that? Most mechs have trouble with a Pentaminx without impaired cognitive abilities."

Wheeljack just shrugged, bringing them to a small table on the far side of the room. "Thought you might be more comfortable away from the crowds. Some mechs get a little paranoid their first time."

It certainly wasn’t news to Prowl, but it also wasn’t making him feel better about the situation. He carefully sat down on the plush sofa with his back to the wall. Jazz plopped himself down next to him, scooting much closer than would be considered appropriate for a public place. Of course, as far as Prowl was concerned, nothing about this place was appropriate.

"Jazz, I"ll get you your usual?"

Jazz nodded.

"Prowl, would you like some recommendations?"

"I wasn’t aware there were options," he said stiffly. 

"Oh of course. We offer a variety of supplements and additives to compliment the neon. We have some lighter alternatives too if you’d prefer."

"What types of alternatives?"

"Prowler, I told ya, it’s all legal. Stop worrying. Jackie can bring ya some plain enerjex if you really want."

Wheeljack nodded, "We also have Helium or Xenon. Both will put a kick in your energon but aren’t nearly as potent as neon."

Prowl considered that for a minute. Helium had always been a legal additive, though requiring a permit to sell it. It tasted rather unpleasant and did less than enerjex in terms of causing an altered state of consciousness. Though too much could cause fuel tank misalignments due to the low molecular weight of the gas. That of course, required decades of abuse of the substance, and even then, the effects where nearly always minor. It was really only used because for centuries it had been the only legal additive that was classified as a noble gas.

Xenon was certainly stronger, and had been legal significantly longer than neon. But it certainly wasn’t the same thing.

He looked over at Jazz, "You’re having the neon?"

"Told ya, you don’t have to Prowler. But my usual is high grade with neon and cobalt. Probably a bit strong for your first time." he grinned leaning against him. If Jazz had been any other mech, it would have made him intensely uncomfortable. But it was Jazz… And Jazz had a way of making him do things he knew he shouldn’t.

"I will try it," he said slowly. "What would you recommend Wheeljack?"

"What flavors do you prefer? I have sweet, sour, spicy?"

"Do you have anything bitter?"

"Oh sure do. Not a popular request but I can do it. How about a cube of low grade with neon and titanium? I can use a half dose of the neon so it doesn’t hit you as hard."

Prowl looked at Jazz who nodded. "That sounds fine," he told the mech.

"Be back in a few!" Wheeljack’s helm fins flashed green before he bounded off to the back.

"I’m proud of ya Prowler."

"For what?"

"Tryin’ somethin’ new," Jazz gave him a smile that lit up the dim room like the sun. Prowl couldn’t help but smile back, just a little.

A shout came from the group of mechs watching the seeker with the puzzle. Based on their reactions, Prowl determined that they had been betting on him to fail and had apparently lost.

"How long have you been coming here?" Prowl asked.

"Here? Since it opened." The mirror of Wheeljack’s earlier words was not lost on him and Prowl did his best not to grimace. He failed. "Please do not confess any crimes to me Jazz."

"I didn’t confess anythin’. 'Sides, it ain’t a crime any more."

That would be be enough for a tail, maybe a comm tap. But he was off duty. And he really didn’t have any interest in turning Jazz in, regardless of what he had done. He just hoped he would never find out exactly what it was that he had done. Other than apparently using neon before it had become legal.

A thought occurred to him and he glanced over at the other. "Jazz," he said slowly, weighing how much he really wanted to know. "You’ve never used anything stronger than neon, have you?"

"Thought you didn’t want me to confess to any crimes," Jazz smirked.

Prowl’s optics brightened a shade at that and his wings raised.

"Nah, mech. Tried boosters once, when I was on a deadline I couldn’t handle, long time ago though. Didn’t agree with me."

Prowl relaxed. Regardless of his feelings for Jazz, an enforcer could not have a relationship with a mech with a history of substance abuse.

"Maybe some argon now and again, if ya want me to be honest."

"Argon is still illegal," Prowl told him, his wings going stiff.

Jazz shrugged, "If it makes ya feel better, I haven’t had any since I met ya."

Prowl nodded slightly, resisting the urge start a file on Jazz’s potential illegal activities, "It would make me feel better if you told me you didn’t plan to in the future."

Jazz smiled, "Prowler, ya have my word that I will not take any illegal substances for as long as we’re datin’."

Prowl’s wings twitched at 'dating'. It still surprised him that he and Jazz were in a relationship. "Thank you. And I will overlook the fact that your promise did not include that you abstain from any other illegal activities."

Jazz chuckled, but before he could respond, Wheeljack returned with a tray. It held two regular cubes of energon, both glowing a steady blue, and two small cubes, one a deep purple, the other a silvery indigo. "If you need anything else just holler," Wheeljack smiled, giving Jazz a parting glance before heading off to check on his other customers.

Jazz picked up both the small cubes, handing one to Prowl, who took it cautiously. Prowl looked between the neon and Jazz. "Hey, you don’t gotta, ok? But you’re safe with me, y’know that, right?"

Prowl nodded. He did know that. He trusted Jazz, and he was right, it was entirely legal. Perhaps it wouldn’t be the worst thing to try something new, especially if he wanted to convince Jazz to spend their next three date nights watching movies in his apartment again.

Carefully, he took a sip. It was cold, thin, and bitter. Despite being low grade, the energon was a high quality, and the ratio of titanium was just the way he liked it. The neon itself didn’t have much flavor, or it was masked by the titanium, Prowl wasn’t sure. But despite the similarities, it couldn’t be mistaken for unaltered energon.

"So?" Jazz asked, still holding his own cube.

"It’s" Prowl searched for the right word, "different."

"It’s a lot thinner with the low grade. If you decide you like it, getting it with mid or high grade makes it a lot smoother," Jazz took a drink of his own cube, clearly savoring the flavor.

"Do you do this often?" Prowl asked, he felt awkward and there wasn’t much he could do to hide that. He made himself take another sip, trying not to think about it.

Jazz shrugged, "Maybe once a week. Depends on the week."

Prowl nodded, taking another sip, "How long does it take to start working?"

"Well if you drink it that slow, you’re frame might process it out before you can feel it," Jazz told him with a grin. His cube was already more than half gone.

Prowl looked down at the swirling silver and not-quite-blue liquid. Before he could remind himself of all the reasons this was a bad idea, he brought the cube up and emptied the contents in three big gulps. He looked down at the empty cube, then up at Jazz expectantly, not sure what else to do.

Jazz grinned, finishing off his own cube, then taking Prowl’s and setting them both on the table. "How do you feel?" he asked after a moment.

"Not different," Prowl said. He thought about it for a moment as Jazz watched him, "Good," he decided finally. "I do not appear to be experiencing any ill effects. And I tried something you like, so there’s a 78% likelyhood that that will keep you interested longer."

Jazz frowned at that, "Prowler, you didn’t have to do this. I told ya. And I find ya plenty interesting."

Prowl shook his head, "You spend less than a quarter of your free time at home. Since we’ve been together, you have mentioned 68 different activities you enjoy and establishments you frequent, only two of which we have in common. Shared interests is one of the most important foundations of a successful relationship. While this particular activity may be one that you would be comfortable not sharing, if all our dates consisted entirely of hat I wanted to do, there is a 98% certainty that you would eventually loose interest and move on."

Jazz was definitely feeling more than a buzz at this point and that train of thought was a bit hard to follow. Though once he had processed it, he supposed he couldn’t argue with it.

"And… you’re worth it."

"I- what?"

Prowl leaned in, taking Jazz’s hand, "You’re worth trying new things for. You’re gorgeous, and fun, and the way you move shouldn’t be physically possible but you make it look effortless. You have so much energy, and enthusiasm for everything. I don’t have that. I’ve never wanted that before, I still don’t, but I like it in you. I like being around you, with you."

Oh. Jazz grinned. Everyone reacted to the effects of neon a little differently. He just felt a blissful kind of calm. It helped to spark his creativity and write his best music. Prowl, apparently, got honest. And intimate, if the way he had just rested his helm on Jazz’s hood was anything to do by. He wondered what the odds were of Prowl remembering any of this tomorrow were.

"So when does the neon start to take effect?" Prowl asked, lifting his helm, his face just a few feet from Jazz’s own.

"I think it already has, sweetspark," Jazz said, his grin practically splitting his face in two.

"Oh," Prowl sat up. He stared at the empty cube on the table for a minute. Then he laughed.

Jazz blinked, "Uh, Prowler? What’s so funny?"

"Jazz, I’m _high_ ," he said the word as if it was some secret. Then he dissolved into giggles again, falling against Jazz’s side.

Jazz’s grin widened, if it was even possible. He wanted so badly to film this, to keep it, to show Prowl in the morning, to use it as blackmail. Nothing serious of course, just to give him the edge when they were deciding which movie to watch on any given night.

But he had promised Prowl he would be safe with him, and he wasn’t one to break his promises. Besides, if he held this over him, Prowl would likely never agree to come here with him again, and having Prowl curled up at his side, his helm buried in his side, practically coming apart at the seems in giggles, was something he definitely wanted to see again.

"You should have some energon Prowler. It’ll keep ya from feeling like slag later on," Jazz told him.

Prowl shook his head, bumping Jazz’s hood, "I feel the opposite of slag. Everything feels good Jazz," he sat up, flicking his doorwings. "Jazz. I’m here with Jazz. I like Jazz. I really like Jazz." Prowl swung one leg over so he was sitting in Jazz’s lap. "Never thought I’d be with someone like Jazz. Another enforcer maybe, but…"

He was stroking his sensor horns now and slag did it feel good. Jazz knew he had to stop this. He had no intention of taking advantage of a mech who clearly didn’t have full control over his actions right now. And considering that they had spent two nights in Prowl’s apartment already and the most they had done was hold hands and a few kisses, he was quite sure Prowl wouldn’t want to go any further than that. "Hey Prowler," he said gently, placing his hands on the other’s arms.

"My Jazz," Prowl murmured as Jazz pulled his hands away, reluctantly. Then he leaned forward, tucking his helm in the crook of his neck and snuggling. Jazz froze as he wiggled his hips a little, sliding down in Jazz’s lap to get more comfortable.

Then he smiled, "My Prowler."

That brought another round of giggles from the Praxian.

***

Prowl was not in his own berth. That was the first thing to register as his systems booted online. He was also not alone. He onlined his optics, bolting upright as he realized he was laying nearly on top of Jazz.

"Jazz," he looked around, trying to figure out what had happened. "I apologize…"

Jazz just flashed him a bright smile, "Ain’t nothing to be sorry for. ’S my place, in case you were wonderin’. It was closer."

"Oh," that made sense. Then Prowl realized the implications of waking up in Jazz’s berth, with Jazz. His doorwings swung back suddenly as he tried to remember the events that led up to this. He remembered the neon bar… "Jazz," he started slowly, realizing that he honestly had no recollection of what had happened after he downed that drink. "We didn’t… I apologize, I don’t recall what happened last night."

"No worries mech, it’s normal your first time. And no, nothing happened, between us I mean."

Prowl couldn’t help the sigh of relief as he let his doorwings droop.

"You certainly seemed to have a good time though."

"I didn’t do anything embarrassing, I hope?" Prowl stood up, looking around. It was a small berthroom, there where two doors and a window, nothing special. It was a bit messy, but nothing especially stood out. He glanced back at Jazz who was still reclining on the berth. He didn’t really have anywhere to go in the other’s apartment unless he just wanted to leave, so he sat back down, awkwardly.

"Nah, nothing embarrassing. It was good to see you relax a little though."

"Jazz," he asked, after a moment. "If I may ask, how is it that we ended up together in your berth? I’m sure I would have been comfortable on the sofa…"

Jazz chuckled, "You pretty much insisted on that Prowler."

"I did?"

"It’ll start to come back to you," Jazz told him, finally getting up and making a show of stretching.

Prowl politely looked away, but he couldn’t help thinking just how flexible Jazz was, and… He froze. Oh slag, he had said that to Jazz, hadn’t he? Something like it anyway. "Jazz…"

"Come on, you’ll feel better once you get some energon. I could only convince you to drink half a cube last night."

Prowl followed him out of the berthroom and into the kitchen, "Jazz, I believe I said some things last night that I need to apologize for."

"Like I said mech, ain’t nothin’ to apologize for."

"I…" Prowl wasn’t convinced. His memory was barely starting to come back to him but he was quite sure he had not only embarrassed himself, but most likely embarrassed Jazz as well.

Jazz set a cube down on the table, gesturing for him to have a seat as he sat in another chair. Prowl complied.

"I know you havta work tomorrow, but maybe we watch a movie at your place? I can bring some of those rust sticks you like."

Prowl stared at him for a moment, wondering if there was some joke he was missing. "Are- are you sure you want to?"

Jazz frowned, "Prowler, what do you think happened last night?"

"I-"

"You were nice enough to come with me to try neon for the first time, we had a great time, we came back here since you were in no condition to drive home," (he said that with a smirk, Prowl noted) "and we fell asleep."

"I was afraid I had come on too strong."

Jazz actually snorted. "Mech, my last boyfriend suggested we frag in the back room of the club an hour after we’d met. I promise y’didn’t come on too strong for me."

"Oh."

"Hey, don’t go thinking you ain’t movin’ fast enough either. I like this, 'k?"

"You are not like anyone I have ever dated, Jazz," Prowl confessed, not making optic contact.

"That goes both ways. I’m easy though. I’ll tell you want I want, and I hope you’ll do the same."

Prowl considered that. It sounded simple enough, but things rarely were in relationships, he found. "What _do_ you want?"

"Well, for starters, you not arresting me for any crimes I may have confessed to last night." Prowl was about to respond to that but Jazz kept talking, "And if it’s all right with you, I’d like to come over to watch a movie tonight. We can do it early, say, 5?"

Slowly, Prowl allowed himself to smile, "That sounds nice."

"Great! Now finish your cube. You may have the day off, but I’ve got a rehearsal in a couple hours and I wanna make sure ya get home safe first."

"I am perfectly capable of driving myself home Jazz," Prowl bristled a little at that.

"I know ya are Prowler. But I wanna make sure you’re taken care of. I like ya," there was nothing but affection in his field as he said it.

Prowl quickly took a drink of his energon to hide the flush of heat in his faceplates. Not quickly enough to keep Jazz from noticing, but he didn’t say anything.

Jazz finished his cube and stood to put it in the washer, "I’mma hit the washracks if that’s ok with you."

"Of course."

"Help yourself to anything. There’s a tv and some datapads in the living room."

"Thank you."

"Was thinkin’ maybe we can go to Wheeljack’s again on your next night off?"

Prowl hesitated. That alone spoke volumes, that he didn’t immediately say no. "I will consider it."

Jazz beamed a smile at him that was brighter than a thousand suns. Slag. He checked his calendar as Jazz disappeared into what he assumed where the washracks. He refused to make this a regular thing, but he had to admit, he had enjoyed himself, even if he didn’t remember most of what had happened.

**Author's Note:**

> The preceding story is fictional. Any resemblance to any real mind altering substances or establishments that distribute them is purely coincidental. This fic is not intended as a commentary on any such substances.
> 
> A Pentaminx, BTW, is a real thing. It’s aptly described as a rubix cube on steroids. XD
> 
> For those of you who want to know how a gas gets mixed with a liquid, you are really overthinking this… XD
> 
> Comments and kudos always appreciated!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Neon Dispensary - Sharing Interests](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26885176) by [star_of_flame_eternal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/star_of_flame_eternal/pseuds/star_of_flame_eternal)




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